


dance, dance, feel the heat

by gothyringwald



Series: state of the heart (harringrove tumblr fic) [16]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Dancing, Developing Relationship, Gay Bar, Hopeful Ending, Jealousy, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, Prompt Fill, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-14 20:20:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18059402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothyringwald/pseuds/gothyringwald
Summary: The air is pulsating with disco, four to the floor throbbing like a heartbeat. Billy can feel it hammering in his chest along with the rhythm of his own heart, thrumming against his skin like a tangible thing. He hates the music but he loves this feeling. The way the music feels like it's inside of him, driving him. He wishes there were a bar like this that plays metal but he'll take what he can get.(For the prompt: ‘How about a fic prompt with dancing?’)





	dance, dance, feel the heat

**Author's Note:**

> I was sent this prompt out of the blue on tumblr aaaaaaages ago and I'm only just now getting around to filling it. Sorry anon! Hope you see this and like it - thanks again for the prompt. It was such a lovely surprise! This kinda ended up a bit 'Angst! At the gay bar!' take two (take one being in go west, young man) but yeah...hopefully you like it. There IS dancing :D
> 
> Original prompt:
> 
> _How about a fic prompt with dancing? I read there were great gay bars in Indianapolis in the '80s. Billy looks like a great dancer to me._
> 
> And thanks to socknonny for looking this over for me <333

The air is pulsating with disco, four to the floor throbbing like a heartbeat. Billy can feel it hammering in his chest along with the rhythm of his own heart, thrumming against his skin like a tangible thing. He hates the music but he loves this feeling. The way the music feels like it's inside of him, driving him. He wishes there were a bar like this that plays metal but he'll take what he can get. And it's easy to get caught up in it all with everyone dancing and just _being_.

Still, he avoids the dance floor, scanning the crowd from his spot at the bar, floor sticky beneath his boots, bottle of beer cold in his clammy hand. It's only the second time he's come here, snuck out and driven the several hours to Indianapolis, fake ID tucked safely in his wallet, pulse hammering in his throat.

The first time, he'd got off with a dark haired guy, not much older than Billy but probably old enough not to need a fake ID to get into the club. All hands in the bathroom, Billy's eyes squeezed shut tight while he tried not to think about brown eyes big enough to drown in. After, the guy had scrawled his number on Billy's hand, and Billy had washed it straight off.

It's been a few months since then and Billy wasn't going to come back but he can't stop thinking about, can't stop wanting, what he can't have. And, so, here he is.

His heart stutters when he spots a head of dark hair, the familiar slope of a jaw, across the room. But it won't be… It can't be…

He turns back to the bar, idly picks up a pamphlet on safe sex, puts it back down, and when he turns back the guy is gone. It was probably just wishful thinking, Billy's mind playing tricks with him. But then there he is, the one person who cannot be here, weaving through the crowd, right toward Billy. Billy's heart thunders. 

'Hey,' Steve says when he's finally close enough. He's wearing a burgundy polo shirt, dark slacks, and when he leans in so that Billy can hear him Billy smells his cologne. It's not a scent Billy likes but it smells good on Steve. 'I'm surprised to see you here,' Steve adds when Billy stays silent.

Billy takes a sip of beer, licks his lips. 'Didn't think it'd be your scene, either,' he says, voice steady but heat is crawling up his neck, blood pricking in his veins.

'I'm testing out a theory,' Steve says. His eyes fucking _twinkle_ in the coloured lights. He presses his lips together, leans in again, arm brushing Billy's. 'Do you wanna dance?'

Everything in Billy aches to say 'yes' but he's been masking his attraction to Steve with aggression and taunting for so long that he finds himself looking Steve up and down and saying, 'I don't dance.'

'Right,' Steve says, 'no. Of course not.'

Fuck. What is Billy doing? This is literally his dream and he's acting like he doesn't give a shit that Steve Harrington is at a gay bar and asking him to dance. But he can't… Steve might be here and Billy might be here and he knows what that means but he just can't. And so he stays silent, one brow raised, as Steve flushes and says, 'Sorry, I'll stop cramping your style,' then walks away.

He doesn't leave but he puts as much distance between himself and Billy as possible. It won't take long until some other guy, someone who isn't such a fuckup, such a monumental idiot, will ask Steve to dance, or more. The thought alone sends a hot wave of jealousy through Billy and when a guy in a tight white t-shirt, hair flopping into his face, sidles up to Steve and leads him onto the dance floor, Billy thinks he might throw up.

Billy watches them dance—they're close, too close—his blood getting hotter with every beat of the song. Before he knows what he's doing, he's pushing through the crowd, stumbling toward Steve and this other guy.

Billy barely glances at the other guy, has eyes solely for Steve, who is smiling shyly, looking a little out of his depth. It should be Billy making Steve smile like that, not some stranger. Billy shoves between them.

'Ex _cuse_ me,' the guy says.

'You're excused.'

'We're dancing here.'

Billy shoots the guy a dirty look. 'He's with me.'

'What?' Steve says.

'You should've said you had a boyfriend,' the guy says, and a rolling warmth washes through Billy at being called Steve's boyfriend. 'A jealous boyfriend,' he amends, with a roll of his eyes.

Steve's mouth opens and closes and he just sort of blinks at the guy and shrugs. 'Sorry?' The other guy moves away, then, swallowed up by the crowd. Forgotten.

'What the fuck are you doing?' Steve rounds on Billy, clearly pissed off. It's hot.

'You asked me to dance,' Billy says. He's still standing close to Steve, motionless on the dance floor, while everyone moves around them.

Steve's brows raise. 'You said no?'

Billy doesn't answer, pretends he can't hear Steve over the music.

'Is this some kind of power play?' Steve asks.

Billy shakes his head. He takes a step forward and Steve takes a step back. The song playing is telling him, _You think you're a man but you're only a boy_ , and fuck. Fuck. Billy's heart thunders as he steps forward again and says, 'Dance with me, Harrington.'

Steve's brow furrows and he presses his lips together. 'I—' He pauses, looks at the floor, then back to Billy. 'OK.' He moves closer. 'But if this _is_ some kind of power play or something…'

'It's not,' Billy says, quickly. Heat rises to his face at how earnest he sounds.

'OK,' Steve says, carefully, 'let's dance.'

Neither of them move, though, just stand staring at each other in the middle of the dance floor, disco blaring all around them, sweaty bodies pulsating on either side. Billy wasn't lying when he said he doesn't dance. He can, and he's good at it, but he doesn't. Sometimes at parties with chicks just to keep up appearances. But he's never danced with another guy. If Steve were a girl…

If Steve were a girl.

Billy reaches out and fists his hand in Steve's shirt, pulling him close. Steve wraps his hand around Billy's wrist but he doesn't push him away. Lets his hand slide until it's wrapped around Billy's, gently pries it from his shirt, never breaking eye contact, and laces their fingers together. He brings their joined hands down to the side and slides his free hand to Billy's hip. 

They start dancing, finally, and it's a little awkward at first because they're the same height and they're used to shorter partners and Billy is vibrating with everything he's been holding back besides. But they start to find their rhythm, and Billy feels his limbs loosen, lets the beat drive him, that perfect feeling washing over him.

'I didn't think you'd like this music,' Steve says, lips brushing Billy's ear.

'I fucking hate it.'

'You're really confusing, you know that, right?' Steve says, but he's smiling.

Billy grins. 'Maybe I just like to keep you on your toes.'

Steve shakes his head, laughing. He's pressed close to Billy, disco ball throwing spots of light over him as he moves. There's something a little goofy about the way he dances but he's got a good sense of rhythm and he looks so fucking good.

Billy's pulse leaps. He remembers what Steve had said at the bar and leans forward. 'So, how's that theory of yours coming along?'

'Hm?' Steve frowns but then his expression clears. 'Oh. Yeah.' He licks his lips, gaze locked with Billy. 'Seems it was right.'

'Good,' Billy says and moves in closer, dances with more abandon.

Heat pools between his hips and, shit, how is he getting hard just from dancing with Steve? Then again, he once got a boner in English when Steve was chewing on his pen, or there was the time Steve's hand brushed his when they both reached for the same tray in the cafeteria. All the close calls in the showers after practice. The first time he saw Steve in that dorky ice-cream sailor uniform. Jesus. He's so fucking easy for Steve.

Billy shifts his hips and— Oh. 'I know I'm a good dancer,' he says, with a wink, 'but I didn't think I was _this_ good.'

Steve's shoulders hunch a little but he stares Billy down defiantly. Doesn't look ashamed at his body's reaction to dancing with another boy like this and, well, he's here after all but Billy's here too and he's felt ashamed for too long and how the fuck can Steve be so…so… 

Billy knows in his gut this is the first time Steve has ever set foot here and he knows, he just knows, Steve has never been with another guy. And yet. 

Fucking Steve Harrington, Billy thinks, but he shifts his hips, pulls Steve closer, so there's no mistaking he's just as turned on as Steve is. He slides his hands around to grab Steve's ass like he's wanted to for so long for good measure.

Steve looks startled for a moment before it morphs into something else. An assured lust, a sly glint in his eyes, the hint of coyness in the way he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. He slides his own hands around to rest just above Billy's ass, and they dance hip to hip, chest to chest, thighs slotted together. It's barely dancing, really, but they're not the only ones here entwined like this. Billy doesn't see anyone else, though, hasn't really seen anyone else since Steve came over to him at the bar. 

'Guess I'm a good dancer, too,' Steve says, pushing against Billy's erection.

Billy's breath hitches but he grins, tongue between his teeth. The longing to know what else Steve is good at surges up in him; it's so strong that it could knock him flat on his ass if Steve weren't holding onto him. He licks his lips and says, 'Do you wanna get out of here?'

'Um.' Steve darts his eyes to the side. 'Just one more song?' he says, and Billy wonders if Steve is thinking that this is it, they've only got these few dances and then it's back to real life. Or if maybe he just really likes dancing with Billy and doesn't want it to end.

Billy can't be sure if it's either of those things or maybe it's nothing but he says, 'Yeah, one more song,' anyway and lets Steve hold onto him a little longer, while the beat goes on.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :) you can [also find the fic on tumblr](https://gothyringwald.tumblr.com/post/183367797280/how-about-a-fic-prompt-with-dancing-i-read)
> 
> I did a little research on gay bars in Indianapolis in the 1980s but nothing extensive. Here's what I read:  
> [Where Everybody Knows Your Name](http://wearinggayhistory.com/exhibits/show/indyexhibit/where-everybody-knows-your-nam)  
> [Gay bars in Indianapolis: a brief history](https://www.indystar.com/story/life/2014/11/26/gay-bars-indianapolis-gay-history/19531515/)  
> [Looking at Indianapolis' unofficial LGBT history](http://america.aljazeera.com/watch/shows/america-tonight/articles/2015/4/7/indianapolis-lgbt-rfra.html)
> 
> In one of the articles it mentions the GIGBA (I've already forgotten what the acronym stands for) president, who also owned the 21 Club wanting literature on safe sex and condoms in all bars and bathhouses so I just kinda threw that line in about the pamphlet even though IDK exactly what kind of literature they had/may have had
> 
> Title from Hit That Perfect Beat by Bronski Beat, which is [on this playlist of some of my favourite Hi NRG songs](https://open.spotify.com/user/andibgoode/playlist/2RcUay287bqMFhHpVLFCBL?si=2mRYstKGTKKjxXS_VCMt8A) that I listened to while writing this (which I also used for inspiration for a scene in go west, young man, too)


End file.
